


GOvember Day 1: Sorcerer

by livingforazirowley



Series: GOvember 2020 [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ficlet, Fun, GOvember, M/M, Medieval, Non-native Writer, Not Beta Read, Schitt's Creek Reference, Sorcerer, Sorcerer!Crowley, knight!Aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27331693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingforazirowley/pseuds/livingforazirowley
Summary: Schitt's Creek's villagers have been suffering the punishments of a powerful sorcerer. Aziraphale comes to the rescue.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: GOvember 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995547
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	GOvember Day 1: Sorcerer

Aziraphale swayed his sword - a non-flaming one that he had acquired just recently - again, cutting a branch in half to open a path. The forest was getting deeper, darker and denser. Which was a nuisance, if you asked him, more so considering that he was wearing his knight armour. At least it wasn’t the Knight of the Table Round one, he thought, or the cape would have been getting stuck in every stray twig along the way.

The sharp blade cut through more impenetrable-looking but certainly penetrable foliage. He advanced, keeping in mind those poor villagers from Schitt’s Creek. They trusted him.

As angels do, Aziraphale usually received orders and missions from Upstairs. But what he enjoyed about his job was when he got to help those he found along the way. It allowed him to discover new gastronomic delicacies and, yes, he appreciated the Court’s chefs, but he also savoured a good home-cooked meal that only village elderly ladies could create. Those stews could lift a dead man from the grave.

He was in one of those exploratory trips - looking for people that needed help and, if lucky, one of those delicacies - when he had arrived at Schitt’s Creek. It was a tiny village that he had intended to avoid, the name hadn’t been very appealing. However, a sudden storm had surprised him, forcing him to make an unscheduled stop there.

At first, the villagers had looked at him with disgust, almost defiantly. But then, as soon as he had started tipping handsomely, they had started to like him better. So much so that they had stayed up late at the local tavern talking about Aziraphale’s past experience as a knight.

“My, you do like some knightley stories, don’t you?” Aziraphale had said eventually. He had had no idea what time it had been, but it certainly had felt late. He could only think of taking a bath and reading before he left the village the next morning.

It had turned out that all the questions had been a job interview. The village needed a knight that would save them from the sorcerer. It was the kind of sorcerer that would ruin your crops, corrupt the youngsters and turn the well water into blood. And they had tried everything. Namely, sending innocent virgins his way every spring. But evil things kept happening and no one had been able to put an end to it.

“Fear not,” Aziraphale had said, using his most heroic sounding voice.

So here he was, cutting branches and jumping over fallen logs in search for the sorcerer’s forest. Luckily enough, the way had been marked with red paint on some of the trees. As the innkeeper had explained, these signs helped the virgins find their way to their destiny. If only they had cared to clear the path for those poor souls as well, Aziraphale thought.

After what felt like an eternity of sword swinging, Aziraphale entered a clearing in the woods. The sun shined brightly, making the angel squint his eyes. There were chirping birds and buzzing bees. The floor was covered in soft grass and white daisies, dancing to the rhythm of a gentle breeze. And in the middle of it, there was a cottage. Aziraphale knocked on the door.

“Hello?” a young, dark-haired woman said as she opened the door. She looked smart and inquisitive as she studied Aziraphale’s armour. She didn’t look like a sorcerer.

“Hello, m’lady,” he said, taking his helmet off. “I’m Sir Aziraphale of the Soft Lake, I’m looking for the local evil sorcerer’s fortress. Do you happen to know where I could find it?” he asked.

The woman looked at him, clearly considering her options. After a moment, and without tearing her eyes off Aziraphale, she gave a shout over her shoulder, “Mr. Sorcerer! There’s someone here looking for you!” A muffled voice replied something that Aziraphale couldn’t understand. “He’ll be here in a moment,” she said, and closed the door.

Aziraphale looked at it blankly, blinking in shock. This was certainly not what he had been expecting. For starters, there was no fortress to be seen. This was a lovely cottage, a bit too far away from civilisation, but that was part of its charm. And the young lady had seemed willing to be there, as well as being healthy and content. There was something off.

He turned around to study his surroundings. Maybe this was some sort of spell that would trick your senses into thinking you were safe. Perhaps the young lady was under a spell, or better yet, she was the sorcerer’s apprentice. That would explain it. But would that make her a sorcerer or a witch? Maybe a female sorcerer? Crowley had been right when he had said that gender was confusing.

“Who dares disturbing the peace of the Sorcerer?” an ominous voice said behind Aziraphale. 

The angel turned around to find a tall, lean figure dressed with a black robe. They were wearing a hood that prevented Aziraphale from seeing their face. He squatted trying to see something and said, “Is that you under there, Crowley?”

Crowley groaned, taking off the hood and revealing himself.

“Aziraphale…” he said as a greeting.

“I didn’t know you were a sorcerer these days,” Aziraphale said, delighted to find out that it was Crowley all along.

“Well, it’s handy to spread evil,” he replied, shrugging.

“I can see why… Wait, was it you who ruined Shitt’s Creek’s crops, corrupted their youngsters and turned their well water into blood?” the angel exclaimed.

“Whuh?” Crowley replied. “Ohhh!” he said, realising what had happened there. “I can explain.”

“Explain what? That you’ve been doing evil things, like the demon you are? No, thank you. I’m here to thwart you, not to hear your excuses,” Aziraphale humphed.

“I’ve got some pie, fresh off the oven,” Crowley said, moving just so he was no longer blocking the door. The angel entered the cottage.

**Author's Note:**

> This was Day 1 of the GOvember prompt list by RedMarten. I'm planning on joining for some of the other prompts, we'll se how November goes :)


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